XVI. Home Sweet Home

Abia remembered places how she tasted sweets. Sour and sweet, sour and sweet. The ones that were delightfully ordinary and ones that were treats. Cities like candy in a powdered box they were there to relish, to reminisce.
Nova Fribrugo was high up in the mountains. It carried mist through it’s air and whistles in it’s winds. Her childhood home was like a dark chocolate humbug, or a sea salted caramel. It oozed with tradition, with sweetness and familiarity, but left an aftertaste of indifference.
Merolas was a sugar coated fruit cube. Covered in snowy sweetness it was soft to touch, full of flavour and adventure. But it’s taste was ambiguous if you did not let it settle on your tongue, too sharp if left there for too long, too much in one mouthful and you might choke.

© elenaxtina.com, 2015 in Skies over A Shanty Town

Worlds Apart

My world, is no longer the world that you knew.
Oh the sun still shines and the sky remains blue,
but my city awakes with heavy eyes that buckle
under the weight of truth,
famine, injustice, desolation,
old age comes a calling too soon,
while with a blanket of multicolored memories
you shelter your imagination,
how ironically you keep your youth, in my world,
no longer the world that you knew.